Epistle To Davie, A Brother Poet
s!
baith careless and fearless
of either heaven or hell;
esteeming and deeming
it's a' an idle tale!
the us cheerfu' acquiesce,
nor make our sty pleasures less,
by pining at our state:
and, even should misfortunes e,
i, here wha sit, hae met wi' some—
an's thankfu' for them yet.
they gie the wit of age to youth;
they let us ken oursel';
they make us see the ruth,
the real guid and ill:
tho' losses an' crosses
be lessht severe,
there's wit there, ye'll get there,
ye'll f
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